A Crime of Manners (19 page)

The duke looked at her skeptically and said, “Because of you? Why?”

“You see, I have perceived Lady Fuddlesby is short of funds. Then, yesterday, she told me she plans to hold a ball in my honor. When I mentioned such an entertainment would be costly, she replied she had just received money from Lord... There she broke off and changed the conversation, but it is an easy deduction now to comprehend she was about to say Lord Mawbly.”

Henrietta’s eyes filled with tears as she thought of her aunt’s sacrifice. She continued miserably, “That would explain why she did it. But she cannot have meant to sell Lord Mawbly anything but a genuine stone.”

The duke removed a clean handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to the distressed girl. “You must not hold yourself responsible for what Lady Fuddlesby decides to do with her money, or in this case, about her lack of it. And I know your aunt would never do anything deliberately deceitful. It is a devil of a business, Miss Lanford, but we shall come about.”

Henrietta dried her eyes and blew her nose, then looked at the ruined handkerchief ruefully. “I shall return this to you after it is laundered, your grace.” She placed the handkerchief in her reticule. “In the meantime, I shall discreetly find out what I can.”

“There!” he responded bracingly. “An excellent plan, my co-conspirator.” The duke’s expression betrayed a spark of mischief. “And while you feel you were hoaxed into thinking me a man with superior intelligence, I now know you to be a woman who could boast of that virtue.”

A gurgle of laughter reluctantly escaped from Henrietta’s lips. Pretending to have taken offense at his compliment, she retorted, “Your grace! A lady is not supposed to be intelligent at all, no less boast of superiority of the attribute.”

The Duke of Winterton chuckled appreciatively at this sally before calling to Jeffers. When the man took his position on the backstrap, the duke guided the carriage back through the park to Grosvenor Square.

During this time, he maintained a trivial conversation consisting of
bon mots
intended to soothe Miss Lanford’s frayed nerves. All the while, he contemplated her pretty countenance.

Even with her nose pinkened from her earlier distress, she appealed to him as no other lady had. He’d felt ridiculously lighthearted when she had not proclaimed love as the reason for her betrothal to Lord Baddick.

He shifted uneasily. Witch! He was back under her magical spell. Then he thought with horror that he had not been out from under it since he’d tasted her lips. Fighting an overwhelming need to be close to her, he put as much distance as possible between them on the curricle seat.

Upon calmer reflection, he could not help but be impressed with Miss Lanford’s sensible approach to her aunt’s predicament. Once again, under adverse circumstances she had been overset, but had displayed a calm rationality instead of falling into strong convulsions.

Her concern for her aunt’s feelings did her credit, and her distress over what she perceived to be her own part in the contretemps showed an unselfish nature. He could not deny she was everything she should be.

Except of his station in life.

* * * *

The Duke of Winterton and Henrietta returned to Lady Fuddlesby’s to find the house in an uproar.

Chuffley hastened them upstairs to the drawing room, muttering incoherently about kidnappers. He flung open the double doors, and a striking tableau met their eyes.

Lady Fuddlesby, reclining on the brocade sofa, sobbed into a lace handkerchief. Colonel Colchester stood over her, patting her hand ineffectively. Felice hovered nearby, holding a vinaigrette at the ready. To one side of the startling scene, the cook, Mrs. Pottsworth was delivering a blistering scold to a

frightened maid who looked to be no more than four and ten.

“Good God! What is going on here?” the duke’s voice exploded over the commotion.

As one, the gathering fell quiet and turned to look at him.

Lady Fuddlesby paused in her crying long enough to wail, “Henrietta, my dear, ’tis monstrous. Bless me! I shall soon be put to bed with a shovel.”

Henrietta’s hand went to her throat. Could the sale of the paste ring already have caused a scandal? Was that why her ladyship had fallen into a fit of the vapors? “Dearest Aunt, never say so. What can have occurred to cause you to feel near death?”

But Lady Fuddlesby’s cries and moans gave no answer. Instead, the colonel straightened and, in a halting voice, addressed them. “Ahem, it seems our brave soldier has been ... er ... abducted.”

Both the duke and Henrietta appeared thunderstruck.

“Soldier? What cursed soldier?” the duke asked, exasperated.

“Was there ever a woman tormented so!” howled Lady Fuddlesby before anyone else could reply. She glared at the duke through tear-filled, swollen eyes and said, “My darling boy, Knight, of course.”

A look of disgust crossed the duke’s handsome features. “You mean all this racket is over a cat?”

Unfeeling man, Henrietta thought before she quickly stepped into the outraged silence this question produced. “My lady, do you mean to say someone has kidnapped Knight?” she asked with disbelief.

“Oh, my dear, precious boy. Gone in the hands of villains. Whatever am I to do?” her ladyship be-

moaned. Her crying continued in earnest, and Felice hurried over to attend her mistress.

Colonel Colchester approached the duke and Henrietta. The gray-haired gentleman’s face was lined with concern. He spoke in a low voice designed not to reach her ladyship’s ears.

“Lady Fuddlesby and I were enjoying a comfortable cup of tea when Mrs. Pottsworth entered the room with the tweeny and told us the events which had transpired moments before. It seems they were in the kitchen going about their duties when there was a knock at the area door. The tweeny answered it, and says a burly man stood there with a child. He said his son had been bitten by a black and white cat, which had then raced down the stairs to this house.”

Henrietta interrupted the colonel to exclaim, “But it could not have been Knight. He never goes out. Lady Fuddlesby is too afraid he will cross the street and be run over by a carriage.”

The colonel nodded his head. “Yes, Miss Lanford. But the tweeny is probably ignorant of that fact, and I suspect too shy to question her elders. The man asked if a black and white cat lived here and, when the tweeny answered positively, demanded to see the animal so it could be identified as the culprit. Evidently Knight was in the kitchens at the time, and the tweeny easily coaxed him near the doorway with a bit of chicken. As soon as the cat was in sight, the man lunged forward and clamped a cloth over Knight’s face. The animal instantly collapsed, and the villain scooped him up and stuffed him into a burlap sack. They ran off before the tweeny could even scream.”

“Poor Knight. How frightened he must be,” Henrietta said, horrified.

“This is preposterous,” the duke protested. “Why would anyone want to steal a cat? There are hundreds of them to be had wandering the streets.”

Henrietta’s eyes widened when a frightening thought struck her. She wrung her hands together and said, “They wanted Knight specifically. Someone must want to hurt him. Who would be cruel enough to want to harm an innocent cat?”

The Duke of Winterton’s expression turned cold and calculating. “I can think of someone cruel, and more importantly, cowardly enough. And this person would perceive he has a grudge against the animal and you.”

Henrietta started forward, clutching the duke’s sleeve. “You cannot mean Lord Baddick,” she whispered in a shaking voice.

The duke looked at her with admiration. “A superior intelligence, Miss Lanford,” he murmured for her ears alone. Aloud he said, “As unimaginable as it seems, it could only be the viscount. I should guess he unwisely did not leave England as I instructed him, but has instead been spending his time brooding over his defeat at the hands ... or should I say paws, of Knight. Furthermore, the viscount must be aware of how much the cat is cherished.”

“What are you saying, Giles?” the colonel asked gruffly.

“Sir, Baddick thought of a petty means of revenge on this household. One that would not require his dirtying his own hands, but could be carried out by a servant. Before I arrived on the scene the night of his unwelcome advances toward Miss Lanford, Baddick’s attempts had been waylaid by the cat. Indeed, the man’s face, neck, and hands were badly scratched. I merely finished the job of trouncing the viscount that Knight began,” the duke concluded.

The colonel was skeptical. “Lord Baddick would have to be a complete nodcock to employ such a scheme as kidnapping an animal for revenge.”

“That is precisely what he is. That and more,” Winterton added. “I agree the scheme is ridiculous, but it fits the viscount. And Miss Lanford is correct. Someone wished to hurt Knight in particular, not just any cat. Since we cannot think of any other suspects, the conclusion must be the villain is Lord Baddick. When I catch up with him, the viscount will find my threats are not to be taken lightly,” he ended, his voice harsh with menace.

“Chuffley.” The duke called the butler to his side. “Send a footman around to Viscount Baddick’s town house and find out if he is in residence there, or at his estate in the country. Have the servant run. I need the answer immediately.”

“Yes, your grace,” the old butler answered, and scurried out of the room, obviously pleased to be of help.

The colonel rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “What’s your plan of action, Giles?”

“First, let us question the tweeny,” the duke replied.

“Allow me, your grace,” Henrietta begged. “She is young and overset. You might be too intimidating.”

At the duke’s nod, Henrietta walked over to the tweeny and spoke to her softly. She did not learn anything different from the colonel’s report, but put an arm around the frightened girl and assured her she was not at fault. Mrs. Pottsworth appeared relieved at this and ceased her scolding.

From her position on the brocade sofa, Lady Fuddlesby drew attention to herself. “I demand to know what you are all standing about discussing. We should be organizing a search party.”

Once again, the duke took command. “Lady Fuddlesby, we have surmised that someone wanted to take Knight specifically. It was not just a random act.”

Her ladyship gasped, and accepted her smelling salts from Felice.

The tweeny threw her apron over her head and burst into fresh tears. Mrs. Pottsworth exclaimed, “Why would anyone steal Knight?”

“Why, indeed? It ees incomprehensible,” Felice said with a
moue
of distaste.

Colonel Colchester walked over to Lady Fuddlesby’s side and took her hand in his. Take heart. We believe we know who the dastard is, and that will make our task more simple.”

Lady Fuddlesby pushed herself up into a sitting position, a martial light coming into her pale blue eyes. “Who did it? Tell me at once.”

“Lord Baddick,” the colonel answered.

Lady Fuddlesby’s hands flew to her chest. “What!”

The duke said, “We believe Lord Baddick would be small-minded enough to find kidnapping a cat a measure of revenge after his foiled plans for your niece.”

Henrietta hung her head in shame.

Lady Fuddlesby whimpered, “But that evil man will have drowned poor Knight by now.”

Winterton’s mouth pursed into a thin line. “I think the viscount too shrewd to have one of his servants destroy the animal in Town, where he might be observed, and the deed traced back to Baddick. Through his riding with you in the park, Lady Fuddlesby, Knight is rather well known. The man most likely has orders to merely bring the cat to Baddick, then the viscount will have another servant who does not know where the cat came from dispose of it. But not if I can help it,” he added quickly at Lady Fuddlesby’s choked sob.

Henrietta’s chin came up. “And I.” At the duke’s raised eyebrow she asserted with conviction, “You cannot think I mean to be left out of this.”

The duke eyed her as if she were a tiresome child. “Don’t be silly, Miss Lanford. The colonel and I shall go after Baddick and the cat.”

His godfather cut off this line of thinking at once. After glancing at Lady Fuddlesby meaningfully, the colonel turned back to the duke and said, “I am needed here, Giles. You will be able to handle the matter.” A wily look came into the older man’s eyes. “And I believe you will need Miss Lanford’s aid once you catch up with Knight. She should go with you.”

Winterton was unconvinced. “I fail to see what Miss Lanford can do but slow me down.”

Henrietta’s eyes flashed fire, and she glared at the duke. “When we find him, Knight will certainly not come to you, Your Grace, but he will come to me.” Her voice took on a chiding tone. “How do you propose to wrestle an unwilling feline from his captors?”

The duke had no answer, so he glared back frostily at the girl.

Lady Fuddlesby held up her hands. “Stop this arguing. You have your tiger with you, do you not, your grace? So the proprieties can be satisfied. Only bring back my darling boy to his home where he belongs!”

At that moment Chuffley entered the room after

a brief knock. “Your grace, the footman has returned from Viscount Baddick’s town house. He received the intelligence his lordship is at his estate.”

“Excellent work, Chuffley,” the duke said tersely.

Colonel Colchester queried, “Giles, won’t the viscount’s servants ride ahead and warn him you have inquired into his whereabouts? I would think, after you threatened his life, the man would leave instructions to be notified at once of any questions posed by you or Lady Fuddlesby.”

“You most likely have the right of it, sir. But it can make no difference to our plans. If you are ready, Miss Lanford?”

“I am,” Henrietta responded firmly. She rushed across to her aunt’s side. “Dear Aunt, please try to calm yourself. We will leave no stone unturned to retrieve Knight. And perhaps Lord Baddick does not mean to harm Knight, only take him away from us.”

Lady Fuddlesby shook her head slightly.

“Good luck to the both of you,” the colonel said in farewell.